


Sins of the Father

by Teeelsie



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Angst, Avengers: Age of Ultron (Movie), Clint is a good dad, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Family, Friendship, Gen, Howard Stark's A+ Parenting, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Insecurity, Parenthood, Tony would be a good dad too, Very obliquely implied child sexual abuse, written for the kinkmeme
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-01
Updated: 2017-01-01
Packaged: 2018-09-14 01:40:57
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,700
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9151150
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Teeelsie/pseuds/Teeelsie
Summary: From this prompt on the avengerkink meme:"I'm probably the only person who hasn't seen AoU yet, but I DO know that Clint has a family, and apparently is a pretty great Dad. Mixing that with comics canon that he had an abusive background? It's awesome that he managed to break the cycle like that and just be a great parent.As for Tony, I think he's a lot more scared about having kids/turning into his father. There's a moment in Iron Man 3 with Harley, when the kid breaks off the suit's finger and he says sorry, and Tony just says "Are you?" in this hard tone before completely changing tracks and telling Harley not to worry about it. I get the feeling that he was beginning to mimic his father there, but the moment he recognized his behavior, he changed it. That's something I really respect.So I'd like a moment between these two, dealing with Tony's worry about acting like his father, and Clint saying it doesn't have to be that way."Basically, that.





	

**Author's Note:**

> I was poking around on the kinkmeme on New Year's Day and this prompt put its hand up and waved it around, saying 'pick me, pick me!' Now how could I ignore that? ... Not beta'd.

 

 

Clint watches as his son leans over the tractor engine next to Tony Stark.  The two of them had pushed the machine out of the barn to work on it in the bright light of the mid-day sun and Cooper is standing on a crate that Tony hauled out, too, so he can see what Tony is doing.  Clint’s sitting on the porch steps messing with a door-lock mechanism, trying to figure out why it’s jammed, and he can just make out their voices as they waft across the yard.

  

“Okay, you see this here?” Tony asks, pointing into the engine block.

  

"Yeah,” Cooper says, starting to reach for whatever Tony is talking about.

  

“Hey, no…” Tony says mildly, gently drawing Coop’s hand back away from the machine.  “Don’t touch it.  It’s super greasy.  You’ll get all dirty and then your mom will yell at you.  Or worse, _me_.”

  

“No she won’t, she’s used to it,” Cooper says easily, reaching out again.  “Dad and I get dirty all the time.  She says it’s her cross to bear,” he adds happily, not worried at all.

  

“Yeah, I can see that.  Your old man’s kind of a mess most of the time, isn’t he?” Tony turns and winks at Clint. 

  

Most people wouldn’t be able to see the small gesture from this distance, but Clint can and since Cooper’s not looking, he flips Tony off for it.  Stark smothers a laugh and turns back to the engine. 

 

“Hey, kid,” Tony turns and looks at Cooper with a grin.  “Your dad ever show you how to take this engine apart and put it back together again?”

  

Clint sees Coop snap his head toward Tony.  “You could _do_ that?” Cooper is looking at Tony with a kind of amazement, and when Tony notices, he sort of startles.

  

He recovers quickly though.  “Better than that, if I show you how, _you_ could do it.  Whaddaya say?”

  

“You break it, you buy it, Stark!” Clint yells over to the two of them as Cooper’s face shows his delight.

  

“Are you kidding me?” Tony yells back.  “It’s already broken!” 

  

Clint just laughs.  He has no doubt that Tony will get the old workhorse going again, and if he can’t, a brand-spanking-new John Deere will probably materialize at the farm in a few days. 

  

“You have a tarp, or maybe an old blanket?” Tony asks Cooper.  “We need something to put all the pieces on when we take it apart so we don’t lose any.”

  

The jammed mechanism in Clint’s hand finally springs loose just as Cooper yells, “Sure!” and dashes toward the barn.  His boy is in good hands, and Clint gets up to go reinstall the knob on the sunroom door.

 

 **

  

Dinner is an adventure.  Clint’s used to eating with the Avengers and he's used to eating with his family.  Both of them at the same time is another story altogether.  The kids are acting up – not in a really terrible way, but in a, ‘there are interesting new people here, look at me, look at me, look at me’, kind of way.  Laura sighs often and repeatedly apologizes for her children but the others dismiss it which only encourages the kids further.  Coop gets a little smart-mouthed at one point and Clint just raises a pointed eyebrow at him, which is enough to prompt a course correction on the boy’s part and he mumbles a sheepish but sincere apology to his mother.

  

The table is loud until somehow everyone goes quiet at the same moment just as Lila gets overly excited telling Aunty Nat about how her dad has been teaching her to ride her pony standing up (which causes Laura to turn to look at Clint in a sort of horror and Clint to duck his head and try to suppress a grin).  Lila suddenly realizes all eyes are on her and she squirms at the unexpected attention, accidently knocking her milk glass over, dumping it into Tony’s lap.  Tony yelps and jumps up and Laura is over at the sink in the blink of an eye, grabbing a couple kitchen towels, handing one to the little girl.

  

“I’m sorry, Mr. Stark,” Lila says apologetically, as she dabs at the milk puddled on the table while Clint grabs the other towel and swipes at the mess on the floor. 

  

Laura hands yet another one to Tony and he smile down at Lila.  “It’s okay,” he tells her.  “Don’t worry about it.  It was an accident.”  After a beat, he stops wiping at himself and gives her a pointed look.  “Or did you do it on purpose?” 

  

All the adults at the table can tell Tony is just being Tony and he doesn’t mean it, but Lila looks scared and her eyes widen and fill suddenly.

  

Tony registers her upset and immediately bends down and kisses the top of her head.  “Hey, hey.  I’m only kidding, Munchkin.  It’s okay.  Don’t cry,” he tells her and kisses the top of her head again before he stands up and looks around at the others who are watching the exchange.  He looks abashed and his face flushes as he brushes at his pants a little more.  “I’m just gonna… stop terrorizing small children and go change,” he says, and then quickly disappears out of kitchen.

 

  **

 

Putting the kids to bed is a long process on the most normal of nights (God, what the hell are they going to do when they’re outnumbered in a few months?), never mind when they’re buzzing at light-speed about the fact that there are five Avengers in the house.  Okay, maybe it’s only three, because Clint will never be anything but ‘dad’ to his kids - which is how he prefers it anyway - and Nat is just… Nat.  But Clint can hear Coop still rambling enthusiastically in the tub to Laura about how he took apart and reassembled the tractor today and how the engine sounds better than it ever did before, and Lila is so wound up from running races with Steve after dinner that Clint’s beginning to think the child will never be ready for sleep.  He’s just wrestled her into her bed when Tony walks past the door and she shouts out to him to wish him a good night, the dinnertime mishap clearly long forgotten.

 

Tony backs up and points at himself.  “Are you talking to me?” he asks, peering back and forth between her and over his shoulder in an exaggerated way as though he is looking for someone behind him.

  

Lila giggles and Tony walks in the room.  “Hey, Munchkin.  What are you, like, five?  Six?  Aren't you supposed to be, I don't know... asleep?” he asks, looking like he's genuinely confused at her state of wakefulness.

  

She giggles again and tells him that she hasn’t had her story yet as Clint flops backward on the bed with an audible sigh, maybe not entirely feigning exhaustion.  Tony wanders over to her bookshelf and gives it a critical review.  “You have a favorite?” he asks, eyebrow raised in question.

  

Lila scampers out of bed and Clint raises his head.  “Lila,” he says, trying to sound stern, but utterly failing.  He’s away from his kids way too much not to pretty much indulge their every whim and they totally have his number.  She turns and gives him a grin but doesn’t slow as she continues to skip over to her bookshelf.

  

Tony squats down next to her when she arrives and she leans on him, one arm resting on his shoulder.  Clint sees him turn to her with something that looks like confusion on his face before glancing back to the titles in front of him.  She’s completely oblivious to Stark’s reaction as she pokes at the spines on the shelf.  “This one,” she declares, pulling it free of the rest and handing it to him.

  

“ _That_ one?” Tony asks, and Lila nods enthusiastically.  “I’m sensing some influence from the peanut gallery,” Tony snarks, waving _Robin Hood_ at Clint from across the room.

  

Clint feels a rush of warmth in his chest and he just closes his eyes and grins.

 

“Will you read it to me?” Lila asks Tony, and Clint lifts his head in time to see her enormous eyes peering up at Tony, and oh, that is soooo unfair because Clint knows just how impossible it is to say no to that look.

 

“Uh…” Tony says, sounding bemused, and looking over at Clint.

  

Clint sits up.  “Lila, Mr. Stark’s had a long day, honey,” Clint says, stepping in to rescue him.  “I’ll-”

  

“No, it’s okay,” Tony interrupts quickly.  “I don’t mind,” he shrugs.

  

“You sure?” Clint raises a skeptical eyebrow.

 

“Nah… I mean, yeah, I’m sure,” he says as he stands, swooping down to pick up the little girl into his arms and walking them over to the rocking chair across the room.  “Besides, I think this little lady might never have heard the real version.  You know, where the brilliant and handsome prince flies in and rescues Robin Hood out of the treetop,” he gives Clint a shit-eating grin.

  

“Was that before or after Robin Hood stopped the man-eating dinosaur from eating the… _prince_?” Clint responds wryly as he gets wearily to his feet.

 

“ _Really?_ ” Lila asks with awe in her voice, as Clint shuffles out of the room, kissing Lila on the top of her head and giving Tony a light touch on the shoulder as he walks past.

 

“Absolutely not,” he hears Tony tell her, but misses the rest because the sound of Cooper’s voice pulls him like a magnet. 

 

 **

  

He ambles to the big hallway bathroom and leans against the door jamb watching as Laura pours cup after cup of water over Coop’s head to rinse the suds out of his hair, because the boy may be ten and perfectly capable of doing it himself but they both love the ritual of Laura doing it for him.  Cooper’s eyes are squeezed tightly shut against the potential sting of the soap and he never stops talking, while Laura gives Clint a tired but genuine smile from the side of the tub and shoos him away because she knows that if Coop sees him, he’ll just get even more worked up.

  

Clint gives her a huge smile, one full of laughter and longing and he sees the sparkle in her eye in return.  He reluctantly leaves the bathroom, but slides happily down the hall, looking forward to the promise of what the night might bring if they both don’t collapse from exhaustion first.  He makes his way downstairs and wanders out to the front porch, suddenly aware of the quiet.  The kids are occupied, he saw Cap reading on the sunporch, and he’s pretty sure Nat took Bruce out walking a circuit around the perimeter of the property - partly to show it to him, but no doubt mostly to reassure herself that things are secure.   Amazed that he has a moment to himself, Clint sits at the top of the steps and leans against the newel post, sucking in a deep breath before letting it out loudly and looking up at the stars that are just becoming visible.  He always forgets how bright the stars are out here, away from the light pollution of the city.    

 

A slow smile creeps onto his face as he thinks about the evening.  The others have more or less recovered from their run-in with the Maximoff girl and whatever magic she was wielding, and everyone seems mostly settled.  His relief at that is enormous.  Add the fact that everyone is safe for the moment to the fact that he’s here, with his family, and he realizes that this is about as good as things get, so he lets himself relax and sink into the feeling of contentment that’s taking hold.  He’s been sitting for a while in quiet contemplation trying to wrap his head around what Laura said about Nat and Bruce when he hears Stark push through the screen door and the man sits down across from him, leaning against the other post.

  

"Hey, thanks for reading to Lila.  You didn't have to do that," Clint tells Tony, because it's true.  Kids sometimes have a sense of entitlement and don't always understand that all adults don't just bend to their whims. 

 

Tony makes a dismissive gesture.  "I didn't mind.  She's cute, in a... small child kind of way," he shifts uncomfortably at that.  "She idolizes you, by the way," he adds.  "It's sweet.  Clearly misdirected, but sweet."

 

Clint huffs happily and ignores Tony's barb.  He knows exactly what Tony is saying.  "I'll go put her to bed," he says, standing up.

 

"No need," Tony says, stopping Clint in his tracks.  "I tucked her in, turned off the light.  She said to tell you good-night," he says with the patented Stark nonchalance that everyone who knows him understands isn't a casual comment at all.

 

"Sounds like maybe my daughter's found another hero to idolize," Clint tells him, sitting back down.

 

Tony just grunts something that sounds like denial, but he doesn't actually give any words of protest.  Clint looks at Tony and it's not obvious in the increasingly dim light, but he could swear the man's face has flushed a little.

 

Neither of them says anything for a few moments, both content to be still and watch the last trace of light disappear behind the tree line.

 

“You’ve got a pretty great family here, Barton,” Tony finally says, quietly, into the dying light.  He sounds about as sincere as Clint’s ever heard him.

 

“Yeah,” Clint answers, a faint smile tugging at his lips.

 

“Gotta say, though.  Really kinda hurt that you kept this little secret from us.  I mean, _really?_ Uncle _Nick?_   Fury warrants unclehood and we don’t even get a mention?”

 

Clint grins, mostly to himself.  “What can I say…” he answers noncommittally.  There’s no way he’ll apologize for keeping this a secret.

 

After a moment of silence, Clint looks over to see Stark scrutinizing him.  “What?” he asks.

 

“Weren’t you afraid?”

 

“Of what?”

  

“Of becoming a father.”

 

Clint snorts.  “Hell, yes. You’ve seen those monsters - it’s terrifying,” he laughs, the love and affection he has for his kids plainly obvious. 

 

“Yeah, but…” Tony starts, staring hard at Clint.

  

“What?”

 

“Aren’t you worried you’ll…” Tony stops and then turns and looks out into the yard.

 

Clint furrows his brow.  “Worried I’ll what, Stark?”

  

Tony looks back at him but still hesitates.  “Become like your father.”

 

“My father?” Clint asks sharply.  "What do you think you know about my father?"  He can feel all his old insecurities slamming back into place, but Tony - the bastard - just shrugs. 

  

“Read your file,” he answers unapologetically.  “Read everyone’s actually, so don’t, you know, read too much into that.”

 

The complete lack of judgement – or remorse – coming from the man eases Clint’s tension some and he gazes at Tony for a moment then bends his head back and looks up at the stars.  He doesn’t say anything for a long time, trying to decipher the rush of emotions, and Stark, to his credit, keeps his mouth shut for once.  “What does it say?” Clint finally asks, finding himself mildly curious.

 

“Don’t you know?” Tony peers at him, looking and sounding surprised.

 

Clint shrugs.  “I lived it.  I never gave much thought to what SHIELD had to say about it.”

 

“But now you do?”

 

“Well, since you’ve seen fit to invade my privacy,” he glares at Stark pointedly.  “Seems like maybe I should know what you think you know.” 

 

“Okay,” Tony says, still showing no regret for his actions.  He pauses, concentrating for a moment, before he takes a deep breath and starts reciting, as though from rote.   “Your father was a physically abusive drunk," he states bluntly.  "SHIELD suspects that the two spiral fractures in your right ulna and radius, the left clavicle break, the left zygomatic bone fracture, the mandible fracture and six of your broken ribs – there have, of course, been more – but one on the right side and five on the left, were all caused by him before he died when you were eight.  They’re also pretty sure the series of small circular scars on your back, buttocks and upper thighs, are from cigarette burns curtesy of dear old dad and strategically placed so they wouldn’t show in public.  They think all of those postdate the two similar scars on your right forearm – lucky how your arm guard covers those, by the way - because they suspect someone saw them and raised questions, and after that he was more careful about where he... extinguished his smokes."  Tony watches him closely as he enunciates those last words, but Clint keeps his face carefully blanked.

 

“There are other old injuries," Tony continues, "that appear to postdate your father’s death, and/or don’t seem to match up with your dad’s modus operandi but they aren’t 100% sure.  Specifically, since he seemed to favor injuries above the waist, the break in the left femur and fibula and right tibia, while clearly old, are still a bit of a mystery.  They’re not entirely sure what happened there, but if they weren’t a result of your father’s love and affection, they assume they were circus-related, somehow.  Really, Barton?  The circus?” Tony interjects, but then continues on.  “There’s also an 8-inch scar on the right side of your abdomen that isn’t a surgical scar, and SHIELD is pretty sure it’s from later since your father wasn’t believed to favor sharp, pointy weapons.  They suspect it was gifted to you by someone else - the ‘Swordsman’, I think it said?  Which, going by the name, I guess that would make sense.  I mean, if he did, in fact, wield a sword.  The rest of the injuries in your medical file – which is terrifyingly thick, by the way – are all documented as SHIELD-related, so I guess we can’t blame your old man for those, unless you consider that early psychological trauma inflicted can make a man feel worthless enough that he throws himself into dangerous situations without much consideration for his own well-being.  Then we could blame him for all the rest of it, too.  I know a little bit about that myself, by the way.  Hi,” he says, and gives a little wave.

  

Clint swallows thickly as long-repressed images assault him, and he's not entirely sure how to respond to having his life laid bare this way.  He had no idea that SHIELD knew so much about his past.  When they’d brought him in, they’d done a complete medical exam with full-body scans and x-rays, but all they ever told him was that he was in good health.  He hadn’t even been aware that he’d broken all those bones.  He remembers how he’d sometimes be in a lot of pain for a long time after his dad would go at him, but since his parents only took him to the doctor that one time, he’d never actually gotten a diagnosis for anything other than the clavicle break, and of course the leg breaks from falls off the high wire in his early circus days.  He sighs, mostly just relieved that the SHIELD in-take psychologist apparently missed the scars from the Swordsman that didn’t manifest physically.  Or that Stark had the decency not to mention it. 

 

“That’s,” the word catches in his throat and he stops to clear it.  “That’s very detailed,” he manages, not sure what else to say to Stark’s recitation of his injuries.

 

“Eidetic memory,” Tony says dismissively.  “Is it accurate?”  His dark eyes are searching Clint's face intently.

 

“Mostly,” Clint answers vaguely, closing his eyes to try to quell the sick feeling in his stomach.

 

“Did he?” Tony ask once he realizes Clint isn’t going to elaborate.

 

“Did who, what?” he opens his eyes again.

 

“Did the “Swordsman”,” Tony actually uses air-quotes and Clint almost laughs, “really cut you with a sword?”

 

“No. It wasn't that bad.”

  

“Oh, well, that’s a relief, at least,” he says sarcastically.  “So, what did happen?”

  

“My… archery teacher - for lack of a better description - grazed me with an arrow.”

 

“On purpose?” Tony asks. 

  

Clint just nods.

 

“That… is not better,” Tony says, his voice soundly slightly strangled.

  

Clint shrugs at the memory.  “I was off on a couple shots during a performance one day and it was bad for business,” he answers, vivid images of Buck’s furious face dancing in his memory.  Seeing the outrage on Tony’s face, he adds, “In his defense, he did warn me he would,” Clint says with a small grin.

  

“Please tell me you aren’t fucking serious?” Tony grits out through clenched teeth.

  

Clint sighs.  “It wasn’t a big deal, Tony.  It’s not like it was deep or life threatening or anything.”  He’s honestly not trying to be self-deprecating.  It really wasn’t that big of a deal.  Buck knew exactly what he was doing; it didn't need stiches and it probably wouldn’t have even left much of a scar if Clint hadn’t been young and stupid and not kept it clean so that it got infected.  Honestly, of all the bad shit that’s happened to him in his life, he barely gives this one a thought.

 

“ _Jesus…_ ” Tony mutters, looking away and across the yard to where the John Deere is still sitting.

  

“So… what?  Your old man hit you, too?” Clint asks, more than ready to shift the conversation away from his fucked-up life. 

 

“Nah,” Tony answers, picking up a twig that had fallen and throwing it down onto the grass.  “He’d have to have been aware that I even existed to think about hitting me.  And since the guy never gave me a minute of thought, at least I never had to worry about that.”

 

“That’s pretty shitty.”

 

“Eh,” Tony shrugs. “Emotional scars.  They don’t really seem all that bad compared to what you’re carrying around.  Still… wouldn’t want to pay it forward.  Don’t think I’d have the guts to have kids like you did, Barton.”

  

“Those kids are the best thing that’ve ever happened to me.”

  

“I don't doubt it.  You didn’t answer my question, though.  Aren’t you afraid?”

 

“Of becoming my father?”

  

Tony squints at him for a moment.  “Statistically, abusers are more likely to also have been abused as kids.  I’d lay odds that your dear old granddad beat the crap out of your dad when he was a kid.”

 

“He did,” Clint acknowledges, nodding his head.  His mom had tried to explain to him why his father was always so angry, but it didn’t really help much when you were sporting bruises and broken bones and you couldn’t go to the doctor to get treated.  “Doesn’t mean I’d ever touch a hair on my kids' heads, though.”

 

“Seriously?  You don’t worry about that?”

 

Clint looks at Tony incredulously. “Never for one second,” he says passionately.  “Tony, just because statistics say it’s more likely doesn’t make it a foregone conclusion.  It’s possible to break that cycle.  Pretty fucking easy, actually.”

  

“Yeah?” Tony asks skeptically.  “Just like that, huh?”

  

“Yeah, just like that,” Clint replies with conviction.

  

“How do you do it?  How can you be so sure?”

 

Clint takes a deep breath and holds it while he thinks about how to answer that.  He _is_ sure, but he has to think for a minute about why.  “Well, I’ve read a lot of books on parenting – like, every book I could get my hands on - and Laura and I have talked about it.  A lot.  And we keep talking about it.”  That’s all true, but the real reason, Clint knows, is something much simpler.  “And, pretty much, if I start to get mad or frustrated, I just ask myself what my old man would’ve done in the situation, and then I do the exact opposite.” 

  

Tony stares at him.  “That's it?  Are you kidding?”

 

“No, I'm not kidding.  Listen, Stark, if you’re aware of the problem and the pitfalls, it’s not that hard to avoid them.  Plus, there’s not a molecule in my body that wants to hurt my kids.”

  

“You can just turn it off?" Tony asks dubiously.  "You go out there with us and fight and kill and you can just come home and turn off all the aggression?”

  

“Yeah, I can.  Because there’s nothing in this world more important to me than those kids.  And I’d rather cut off my hand than raise it to one of them.  Or Laura,” he adds.

  

“You know what, I believe you actually would,” Tony answers quietly, looking at Clint differently than he ever has before and Clint’s not quite sure how to interpret it.

 

“You could do it, too, you know,” Clint tells him.  “Stop the cycle.” 

 

Tony hums a little.  “Yeah, that’s what Pep always said, but…” he shrugs and looks away.

 

“Did you... Is that why you and Pepper…?”

 

Tony shrugs again.  “It was one of our issues.  It wasn’t the only reason, but… it was one of them.  She was made to be a mom, with all that…” Tony flaps his hand in an indeterminate gesture, “…maternal competence.  But I just couldn’t see myself taking the chance.”

 

“Look, Stark, I don’t know if you and Pepper can still work things out - or if you even want to - but you gotta know, you’d be a great father.”

 

Tony scoffs. 

  

“I’m serious.  You just told me that your father never gave you a second of his time, and you spent four hours this afternoon teaching my son how to take apart a fucking tractor engine and put it back together.  I listened to Coop talk nonstop asking you questions and you answered every single one patiently, explaining it so he could understand.  And tonight, my daughter spilled her milk into your lap and you _didn’t_ bite her head off – in fact, you turned off your usual wise-assery and made her feel better when she started to cry.  Jesus, just a little while ago, you let Lila crawl into your lap and you read her a book before bed. 

 

“Cooper and Lila aren’t even your own kids and you gave them your complete and undivided attention today.  And I’m not even going to go into the way you’re constantly taking care of all of _us_.  You think you wouldn’t do the same _and more_ for your own kids some day?  Jesus, Tony, give yourself a break.  Can’t you see that you’re nothing like how you’ve described your father?”

 

“I dunno,” Tony answers sullenly.  “Maybe I wouldn’t be able to control it, like some sort of kill-switch gene or something…”

  

“Look, Stark.  You’re a smart guy.  You’re a million times smarter than I am-”

  

“Don’t sell yourself short-”

  

“-and if I’ve figured it out then you can.  You’re aware there could be an issue and I know you, Tony, you’d be so hyper-vigilant not to make the same mistakes your father did that if anything, you’d probably overcompensate and drive your kids crazy, spoiling and smothering them instead.”

 

Tony stares at him for minute and then blinks and turns away again.  “Maybe…”

 

“Look, Tony,” he gentles his voice.  “Having kids isn’t for everyone.  But if that’s been your hang-up about it, then you can stop worrying.  Seriously.”

  

Tony looks back at him and Clint can see his mind working that over.  After a minute, he nods a little and stands.  “I’ll think about it,” he says and walks to the door, but stops just outside, hesitating and then turning back.  “Thanks, Barton,” he says softly, then ducks into the quiet house.

 

Clint sits for several-more long moments, thinking sadly about how the sins of the father are too often visited upon their sons.  He thinks about his own kids and the fierceness with which he loves them and how he doesn’t spend nearly enough time with them.  A small idea begins to form in the back of his mind and he decides to let it grow a little and maybe talk to Laura about it once they figure out this mess with Ultron.  And thinking of Laura, he smiles and takes himself inside, too.

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading. If you're inclined, I'm always interested to hear your thoughts.
> 
> You can find me on tumblr at teeelsie-posts.tumblr.com. Feel free to send messages or asks over there!


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